


Seven Devils

by localmanghoe



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Catholicism, F/M, Nuns, Priests, Religion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:20:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26605096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/localmanghoe/pseuds/localmanghoe
Summary: Catholic schooltrip gone wrong *NOT CLICKBAIT*
Relationships: Michael Langdon/Reader, Michael Langdon/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Seven Devils

**Author's Note:**

> hello this is the first chapter and it wont be updated till like november lol enjoy

You looked over the wasteland that was now the world.

This was all your fault. You had caused this. You blamed yourself.

You thought back at what had led to this.

7 days.

It had taken 7 days for your curiosity to cause the end of the world.

“Why do you cry for the world? You gave into the temptation. The blood of 7 billion people is on your hands angel,” the blond man taunted.

You ignored him and continued to observe the landscape in front of you, thinking back to that week last summer.

////

When the sisters at your catholic school had announced that they would take a few girls to mainland Europe to spend a summer in a convent, you scoffed at the idea and threw away the letter. Turns out your parents get emails and had signed you up; you were not very happy about that decision.

So here you were, in the middle of fuckass nowhere, standing outside the Convent of Saint Y/N. The entire bus journey here was spent with your friends laughing at the fact you shared a name with this saint. As Sister Ruth was debriefing you all on behaviour standards and things of the sort, you turned to your friend Claire, “Actually, if I was a saint this is exactly what I’d want my convent to look like, it’s kinda sexy.”

“I hope the inside is sexier, I love a bit of stained glass,” Claire replied.

Sister Ruth interrupted your conversation, “Miss Y/N and Miss Claire! I can hear you both giggling while I’m giving you important instructions. The pair of you better behave yourselves, I do NOT want a repeat of Lourdes!”

The pair of you bit back a giggle as you remember the fun you both had last year, tormenting Sister Ruth and getting drunk when you shouldn’t have been. “good times man,” Claire said, as you made your way inside.

The interior of the convent was just as remarkable as the outside. High arches, colourful stained glass and columns carved with intricate patterns. You were greeted by the Mother Superior of the Convent. “Good afternoon ladies, I’m Sister Frances and welcome to the Convent of Saint Y/N. We have a lot of activities for you to get involved in this summer. For now, I’ll take you through to your rooms.”

You all followed quietly, taking in your surroundings. As you walked through the cloisters, you noticed a tree in the centre of the courtyard. It seemed to be growing both apples and pomegranates, as a gardener yourself, you knew it was impossible.

Mother Superior stopped at the tree, “Girls I must tell you about this tree and its importance. This tree is one of St. Y/Ns miracles. It somehow grows both pomegranates and apples. The tree was the only thing that remained after the great fire, and St. Y/Ns martyred body was found underneath it. It has been untouched since. Eating the fruit from this tree is forbidden, it is poisonous, and I fear we may not get you help in time; we do not want any deaths here.”

How ironic, forbidden fruit in a convent.

As you walked towards the dorms, you swore you heard a heartbeat coming from the tree. As if it were alive, or something was trying to break out.

The first day had left you with a strange feeling, as if you had been here before and were forgetting something. Your deja-vu had never been this bad before. You closed your eyes and tried to sleep, the sound of a heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

////

_Sister Maria Y/N did not like change. She hated it. All the worst things in her life happened because of change._

_Her mother got married and everything changed for the worst; her stepfather being a more pig than man._

_Her mother died and everything changed; her stepfather accused her of being a witch, forcing Y/N to flee and seek refuge in the convent, becoming a nun to earn her keep._

_This wasn’t her plan in life. But peasant girls didn’t have many options. Sisterhood was better than being married young and constantly with child. She learned to read and write, something the women in her family never did. She would spend the rest of her life without the company of a man, but she was never too fussed, no one was worth changing her rigid routine for._

_The biggest and worst change of Sister Y/Ns life would come in the form of the new Monseigneur. Father Thomas had died of old age, the man had dedicated his life to God, and it was finally time for him to reap his rewards in the afterlife. Everyone was curious as to who would take over. Father Thomas had had the job for a long time._

_The new Monseigneur came in the form of Father Michael Langdon. Angelic in both name and appearance. He was the total opposite to Father Thomas. Michael was a lot younger and a lot more guarded. He wasn’t one for community work; you wouldn’t see him give direct aid to the poor nor would he be seen in the community gardens that were ran by the convent. He was only ever seen with the sick to give them their final rites, never to pray for the living. Father Thomas took his vow of poverty seriously, the man died with very little to his name, only the clothes on his back and the rosary in his hand. Michael’s hands however, were adorned with jewels that glimmered in the church candlelight. He was draped in fineries that were far too expensive for a man of the cloth._

_She remembered her first sermon with him. His honey like voice had the room in a trance. The way he moved his hands to illustrate his points was almost sinful, as if he was the conductor and the parishioners were just instruments for him to play. People held on to every word that came out of his mouth. Church attendance had never been that high._

_There was something off about him. Sister Y/N didn’t like the way he looked at her; he always seemed to be watching her. His fingers lingered far too long when he placed the communion wafer on her tongue. He loomed over her during her daily prayers, his exotic perfume from the east almost distracting her from her duty._

_She thought she figured out what type of man he was when she saw the widow leave his quarters one night. Her dishevelled state indicating what had gone on. Sister Y/N wondered who her children were with. Father Langdon made eye contact with Sister Y/N as he was shutting the door. He brought his finger to his lips in a ‘sush’ motion and winked, smirking at her. She was at a loss for words, standing there wide eyed as he clicked the door shut. She put her head down and made her way to the chapel, hoping that God would give an answer to the question she didn’t know she was asking. But Sister Y/N was naïve, God had abandoned her long ago. She had devoted herself to an entity that did not care for her. The prayers of the righteous would not save her from the fate that was to come. Sister Y/N did not know this that night, but Father Langdon was a worse man that she thought he was._


End file.
